


Bring him home.

by owlinaminor



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Dad max, F/M, Gen, Nux Lives, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://renwalker.tumblr.com/">tumblr user renwalker</a>: au where max stays at the citadel and unintentionally becomes the universal father figure for everyone under the age of like 25<br/><a href="http://mugsandpugs.tumblr.com/">tumblr user mugsandpugs</a>: But this happened, remember? He just turned around for a quick bathroom break and to dig Nux out of the wreckage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring him home.

**Author's Note:**

> the les mis reference is absolutely seven thousand percent intentional. I literally wrote this fic so that I could make that les mis reference. (honestly, the more I think about it, the more I'm certain that max rockatansky and jean valjean would be bros.)
> 
> as usual, thanks to [becky](http://dicaeopolis.tumblr.com/) for encouraging my shit fanfic. or at least proofreading my shit fanfic.
> 
> oh, and the post I quoted in the summary can be found [here](http://gratuitytuccci.tumblr.com/post/121798817370/mugsandpugs-roguewarboy-mugsandpugs).

Max only goes back to the canyon to look for his car.

He does, really.  The canyon is hostile territory, thanks to both its tribe of mountain-biking barbarians and the precarious state of many of its rock formations.  And besides, he has no good reason for traveling east – nothing but salt in that direction, salt and sand and death.  Max wants to go in, find his car, fix it up, and get out.  That’s it.

This is what he tells himself, speeding towards rusty sandstone on a borrowed bike.  (It belonged to some War Boy too busy celebrating the leadership change to notice Max riding it out of the Citadel.  He’ll return it someday, once he has a working car again – he loves the freedom a bike gives you, sure, but there’s only so many supplies he can store on the back of one of these things.)

Max is thinking only of his car, torn from him and modified by foreign hands.  He is thinking only of the property that should rightly be returned to him.  He definitely isn’t thinking of what else – _who_ else – might be buried in the wreckage in that canyon.

He absolutely, most certainly is not thinking of the car ride back to the Citadel, trapped in that tiny car with seven women and too many ghosts to count.  He can’t picture Capable’s tearful eyes and the determined line of her mouth.  He can’t hear her voice, insisting that Nux survived three times he was Awaited at Valhalla, surely he could have survived a fourth – surely he’s the luckiest War Boy of them all – surely they should go back and look for him, they should just _check_.

Max does not admire that girl for being so full of hope in a world of fire and pain.  He isn’t here out of any sense of responsibility towards her.  That would be insane.

And that is why, when he reaches the canyon, he heads straight for the carcass of the War Rig.

* * *

The Rock Riders don’t know what to make of the strange man in their territory.

He is familiar to them – he was among the crew of Imperator Furiosa’s War Rig, driving for her when she backed out on their deal.  That fact, his assistance in her betrayal, makes them want to ride down the canyon and cut his head clean off.  But at the same time, they remember his second appearance – running across the War Rig and jumping from pursuit vehicle to pursuit vehicle like some kind of demon, with no regard for his own life or anyone else’s.  Surely, if they fought him, he would take at least one of them with him.  Is revenge worth that?  The Riders argue back and forth while watching the strange man from atop their rocky vantage point.

They watch him park next to the remains of the once-great War Rig, his bike sending sand flying on the wind.  He rummages in the pack on the bike for a minute before pulling out a few tools, then sets to work.  What work, the Rock Riders can’t fathom – there’s nothing beneath that wreckage but metal and ash.

Yet after digging and prying, lifting and cutting for what must be hours, the man seems to find what he was looking for.  He reaches down into the space he’s unearthed, grabs ahold, and yanks out a body.  A corpse.  That War Boy is mangled beyond any reasonable hope of life – the Riders can see the gashes across his chest from here, and War Boys have the lifespans of insects anyway.  Still, the strange man cares enough to lie the corpse out on the sand, clean his wounds, and bind them with makeshift bandages.

And then, as though that isn’t enough, the man goes back into the wreckage and starts to dig out a car.  That, more than anything, settles the Rock Riders’ debate: they can’t fight this man.  He’s clearly out of his mind.  If they threaten him, who knows what he might do?

* * *

Capable likes taking sentry duty.

It’s no job for a young woman, the War Boys told her, and certainly not for one of Joe’s Wives.  But she isn’t a Wife any longer, she can handle herself, and, more than anything, it’s about time she started doing her fair share of work around the Citadel.  The War Boys were surprised (and perhaps impressed) enough by her answer that they gave in, let her take second watch the night after her return.

She stands by the eastern border, upon a tall rock that seems to have been built just for her purpose.  The sky stretches above her, its endless darkness broken by stars.  Capable tries to count them – raises one finger above her head even as she keeps one eye trained on the horizon.  It’s comforting, somehow, to stand here and see just how big the world is.  She may be mourning, she may be terrified, she may have no idea what her life is supposed to mean now – but at least she isn’t alone.  There’s a whole wide universe out there, and surely it can’t be empty.  Surely there’s someone else out there –

_There’s someone else out there._

A car approaches, and for a moment, Capable’s heart, mind, entire nervous system freezes.  She stupidly never considered that, while on sentry duty, she might actually have to _do_ something.  Her right hand finds the gun at her hip, and her fingers tighten around it.

But then, as the car grows nearer, Capable realizes that it’s familiar.  She saw it, riding beside the War Rig as they fought through the canyon on their way back.  There are few people still alive who know where that car was, and even fewer who know how to get it running with what seems like half its engine missing.  A quick look in Capable’s binoculars confirms what she’s already guessed.

The car stops, maybe fifty meters away from Capable.  The headlights stay on.  The door opens, and Max steps out – then reaches back inside, grabs something – something big, and heavy, but not too heavy for Max to carry it across his shoulders as he walks forward, like –

_Like he carried Nux, two days ago._

Capable abandons her gun, her binoculars, her flashlight, and _runs_.  Her skirt billows out behind her like a flag caught in the wind, and her chest binding is coming undone, but she doesn’t care.  She needs to go – she needs to see him – she needs to _see._

She barrels into Max so forcefully, she nearly knocks him over.  Luckily for both of them, he has the balance of a rock.  He and Nux – _and Nux_ – stay put.

Capable reaches up and touches her War Boy, ghosts her fingers along his face and his chest (tightly bound with cloth, no doubt Max’s handiwork.)  A few moments pass, and she finally works up the courage to find his pulse.

Nux’s eyes are closed and his breathing is pained, but his pulse is strong.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Capable says.  She breathes out for what feels like the first time in years – then throws her arms around Max, careful not to shift Nux’s position across his shoulders.  “I told you – I _told_ you he was the luckiest War Boy of them all.  Lucky to have someone like you willing to go back for him.”

“Hmm,” Max grunts in response.

She couldn’t be sure, but she thinks that, in the starlight, she catches a glimpse of his smile.

* * *

Max really didn’t ask for this.

He’s a lone ranger.  A road warrior.  Meant to be solitary and vicious, speaking not even when spoken to.  He’s not cut out to be followed around, or hero-worshipped, or, God forbid, _thanked_ for his lapses in judgment.

But somehow, here he is, anyway.  The first words out of Nux’s mouth once he woke up – well, after _Capable_ and _is this Valhalla?_ and _Capable_ a few more times – were asking how he came to be miraculously still alive.  And nobody had the good sense to _lie_ to the kid, so now, Nux can’t go an hour without singing Max’s praises.  It’s all, _Max saved me_ this and _Max brought me home to Capable_ that and _Max is the best warrior besides Furiosa_ whatever.  Max can’t even visit the sickbay any more.

And, more than that, the kid is spreading rumors.  Now, half the Citadel thinks that Max is the best thing on two legs.  He’s got War Pups running at his feet, begging him to tell stories of his years on the road.  He’s got former Wives (calling themselves Sisters, now) smiling at him and asking him to teach them to fight.  He’s got War Boys of all ages pestering him for advice on the best way to fix whatever machinery problem they happen to be dealing with today.  And worst of all, he’s got Furiosa, laughing at him with a teasing glint in her eyes – she knows the whole thing is ridiculous, but she finds it too funny to put an end to it.

Sometime between returning with Furiosa and returning with Nux, half the Citadel decided to adopt Max as its new dad.  He really could not be more pissed off.

(He doesn’t regret saving either of them, though.  Not for a second.)

**Author's Note:**

> please come talk to me about rad dad max rockatansky on [tumblr](http://gratuitytuccci.tumblr.com/).


End file.
